Initiation

The right way to go would have been with Tiki but it didn't happen that way and I don't want to pretend (for you) that it did. I was alone.

I always thought I should have had an initiation rite. I don't know what kind of rite my father or his father before him might have went through, if any. I didn't know them. Maybe they didn't know each other either. 

I was alone. Everyone is. I should have learned that. 

I've read in books about initiation rites. Rituals. Everything used to be a ritual. Now it is, again, but different. They've been stripped of their meaning and purpose. 

They're just rituals and we forgot why we do them, but they make sense of the world so it doesn't have to. 

I brush my teeth but they still hurt all the time. I grind them to ground myself. 

Tiki was the closest thing I had to an initiation in childhood. She made me feel like I could fit in somewhere, even if there was no place really for me. The guardians were always awful. I don't want to think about them. 

They're gone but I'm still here. For now. Alone. 

Look. I rather not say anything. Silence is peace. 

I was glad Moe wasn't at the park. He was a good friend. He might have been the only one. 

He wanted to save me but he didn't have the language for it. I had the language but I didn't have the belief. 

They're both hustles but one I can grasp. I know now I can only fake the other. Trickery trickery. 

My eschatologist told me to not worry. My end was not my own. It doesn't require belief to understand you're a lot smaller than everyone else. Or language. Existing is enough. Not thinking about it doesn't help. It's there even in the silence. The only truth. Your nothingness. Accept it or not.

The people who don't, end up like ReadyI'm, main characters in other people's lives, and at their mercy. 

The people who don't end up like ReadyI'm are the ones who know there's nothing to be. 

I don't know.

We're holes not piles. We're defined by what we can hold. I can't hold anything anymore. I can't. 

The hand tool felt like it was part of me until I was finished. Then it wasn't mine. None of it was anymore. 

It had started to rain again but it was too late. I had done it myself. Me. I went to sit at the bench. 

I didn't call the police but someone must have. It was too loud to ignore and it was so messy. 

I thought I saw Moe from a distance but I was too far gone even for him. Maybe he was the one who called the police. That would make me feel better about things. 

Here I come. 

Everything got dark.